To Be a Mother
by Night Hunter MGS
Summary: Inspired by Erynnar's story "Soulmates" and in honor of Mother's Day, this is a look into the lives of the mothers and mother figures of Soulmates and Dragon Age, and explores just what it means to be a mother.


**To Be a Mother**

**A Mother's Day and Soulmates tribute by NightHunterMGS**

_Author's notes: I apologize for how rough this is I wanted to get it out before Mother's Day ended so I didn't have a beta reader go over it or smooth out most of the rough spots. Despite that I hope you all enjoy this little Soulmates inspired shout out to the mothers of the world on this their special day._

_Dedication: Dedicated to all the women in my life who've given me a bit of mothering, my friend Erynnar who's writings portray both the joys and fears of motherhood well, and of course the most important woman in my world and best friend for over twenty years, mom._

_Disclaimer: Dragon Age: Origins and associated creative properties belong to Bioware. Kaidana "Kai" Cousland and those ideas associated with her are the intellectual property of Erynnar and her story "Soulmates". This fic is written simply in appreciation of both of them and as a tribute to mothers everywhere and of all types._

Wrapped in a shawl to ward off the slight chill in the air, Kaidana "Kai" Cousland idly rocked her infant son Duncan in one arm as she sat at her desk in her room at Highever. His twin sister Fiona was currently spending time with her grandmother and namesake, but Kai had wanted some time to bond with at least one of her children even if her duties prevented her from sparing enough attention in order to look after them both at the same time.

On the time worn and cared for wooden surface before her were piles of reports, orders, and proposals for both her Scaths, the "shadows" of Ferelden who already had come to rival the infamous Antivan Crows thanks in no small part due to the fact that most of the members were in fact former Crows who'd sworn their loyalty to her, and for her outlaw activities as the "Silver Griffon", based upon the tale of the "Black Fox" in which she and her group stole from the wealthy nobles to give the money back to the overtaxed and oppressed peasantry. A delicate yet calloused hand running through her long ebony curls, Kai breathed out a sigh, careful not to be too loud lest she wake her son from the slumber he'd fallen into. It was so hard some days, leading a secret rebellion against the crown. Honestly, she wished for nothing more than to live in peace, raising the children that she and her deceased lover Alistair had made together; she'd managed to heal enough that the thought of his death no longer caused her too much distress. But such was not to be.

Anora, returned to the throne after Alistair's sacrifice in slaying the Archdemon, had proven herself almost completely mad. Higher and higher taxes. Increased conscriptions. Superseding the Templar as her own private police force. Selling Ferelden citizens into Tevinter slavery. All to fund statues, monuments, and more all dedicated to her father, Loghain MacTir, the Hero of the River Dane and the Traitor of Ostagar who'd allowed his king and most of the Grey Wardens in the country to be slaughtered amongst other crimes. Anora had even nearly killed her, hiring an assassin to subtly poison her in order to end the Therin line by murdering Kai and her then unborn children. The mad queen was a cancer that was killing her country, and stopping her was the only reason why Kai had left the Fade and willed herself to live while in the grips of the poison.

_Well, not the only reason_, Kai admitted to herself as she smiled down with adoration at her sleeping child. Even in her darkest moments, when she wished nothing more than to join Alistair and her family in the Fade, her children made living in this world worthwhile. Planting a soft kiss on Duncan's forehead, she quietly crept over to the bed and gently placed him down on it. Running her hand lightly over the side of his face, taking in his features for the thousandth time, she reluctantly withdrew and returned to the desk. Sorting through the sheaves of paper, it soon became apparent that all that currently needed to be done was done. New weapons were on order, coin was going to those who needed it, Anora and her bootlicking toadies in Denerim were being watched closely by those Scaths posing as servants in the palace, and all seemed to currently be in order. Kai found herself with something that was coming in increasing rarity: free time.

Pursing her lips, the Hero of Ferelden surveyed her desk as she considered how to spend this time. After a moment, her eyes found her somewhat neglected journal. She'd kept one growing up but it had been lost when she fled Highever, Howe's men at her heels. At Duncan's suggestion, she'd started up another as they travelled to Ostagar but that too had been left behind after she, Alistair, and her Mabari war hound, Argus, had been rescued from the battlefield and then been forced to run as hunted fugitives while trying to gather an army to oppose the Blight. During the journey she'd started another one and that is the journal she had now, though just as it was during the Blight she rarely found time to write in it. Perhaps she was due for another session.

Pulling the tattered volume towards her, Kai flipped the pages to just past the last entry and reached out for a quill. Wetting it in the ink well, she paused but a moment before putting the tip to paper and letting words flow onto the pages.

_Dear Journal,_

_It's been a long time since I last wrote in you, hasn't it? Not since…_

She swallowed, closed her eyes a moment then continued.

_Not since that last, terrible night at Redcliffe. Not since Riordan told us of the ultimate price a Grey Warden must pay in order to stop the Blight, and I wrote in you my farewell to Alistair and my friends, an explanation of why I was determined to strike the final blow if Riordan failed as I felt he might._

_Obviously that didn't happen. I didn't strike the Archdemon down, but neither did Riordan._

_That… That duty fell to my dearest love, to Alistair, my fellow Warden, bastard prince, and for a short time Ferelden's king. Though I intended to take the final, lethal blow myself, he wouldn't let me. He even went as far as ordering Wynne to hold me with a spell when the time came; it took me a long while to forgive her for it._

_And so Alistair ended the Blight. But with his passing, an even greater threat to our country revealed itself. Our very queen, Anora, perhaps driven mad when I slew her beloved father in front of her or perhaps she was always as such and now simply doesn't have a king to share power with and rein her in to some degree. And so I fight, I fight just as good King Maric's mother did before me, a rebel against the oppressor of our people._

There was another brief pause, the quill lifting from the parchment. For a moment, Kai sat pondering her own words. Her eyes darted from the journal back to the infant slumbering on her bed, the gentle smile that she always found herself wearing when she saw her either of her two great blessings finding its way back onto her face. Again she turned back to the journal, dipping the quill back into the well for more ink before continuing.

_It is ironic I suppose that I should think of Maric's mother, our beloved Rebel Queen. I find myself increasingly like her I suppose, connected to her through the way women most often are. For Alistair left me a gift you see. The Therin line didn't die with him; it lived through me, through our daughter and son._

_That's undoubtedly been the biggest change in my life, to be a mother. Bigger than being able to talk to Alistair in the Fade through our bond as soulmates, bigger than the rebellion against Anora, bigger than Morrigan's return or the revelation of Alistair's true mother the Grey Warden and elven mage Fiona, bigger even than taking on Zev as a lover; at Alistair's insistence no less! Aye, motherhood is a challenge that at times makes fighting a secret rebellion look easy._

_And being a mother myself, I understand so much more now. I understand mother, Wynne, Fiona, Arlessa Isolde, and others so much better. To be a mother means that you are and have a lot of things. To be a mother is to have pride…_

Her thoughts turn to Flemeth, to the words found in the ancient abomination's journal about her daughters. It was horrifying that anyone could raise a young child, care for their basic needs, teach them, mold them, then murder them and steal their body for their own. Yet even a monstrosity like Flemeth, when she talked about her daughters' developments, especially Morrigan's, there was a certain pride there. It was a sick and twisted pride without a doubt, more gloating over the perfection of her next vessel than anything else, but pride nonetheless. Pride in the powerful beauties that her daughters had all become, even if she was proud of their achievements for how they advanced her own evil ends and not for themselves as worthy individuals. Pride but corrupted and ugly, much like the old witch herself.

…_Pride, pride in our children and all they have and might still accomplish. To be a mother is also to have a lasting effect on a child, even if we're gone from the child's life at an early age for them._

She thinks of Zevran, of how he closed his eyes and rubbed the soft leather of the Dalish gloves against his cheek, remembering the pair that had belonged to his mother and how they connected him to a woman that had died giving birth to him. Thoughts of Alistair, cradling his mother's repaired amulet, tears in his soulful eyes. Thoughts of Leliana, breathing in the fragrance of Andraste's Grace, the scent of her mother remaining even if the memory of her face had faded.

_Indeed, even if they never meet their mother will always have an impact on a child's life, and even the little things about them will stick out in the child's mind and become unbelievably precious. To be a mother is to be a mentor and teacher…_

One of Wynne's many lovingly given, yet stern, lectures appears in her memory. Even if Wynne wasn't her blood mother, she'd certainly been a motherly figure at a time when Kai desperately needed one in her life.

…_Because there is just so much that their children need to know about the world and both the wonders and dangers in it. A mother must put the needs of her child first…_

An imagined image of Fiona, tearfully handing Alistair over before turning and walking out of his life forever.

…_Even if what's best for their child breaks the mother's heart. To be a mother means being willing to face the most horrible sorts of pain…_

Now came the regretful thoughts of the pain on Wynne's face when Kai screamed that she hated her. Of how pale, thin, and worn the elderly mage had been until Kai finally offered her forgiveness.

…_Especially pain caused by their own children. And no matter how much pain they cause you, loving your children enough to do everything you can for their sake._

Kai thinks of how so shortly after she'd caused Wynne such grief and only just forgiven her, how the mage had literally taken years off of her life pouring healing energies into Kai to save both her and the twins. Other thoughts came with it, of her own mother and how even at Kai's most frustrating and defiant of attitudes Eleanor Cousland never hid the fact that she loved her daughter.

_But in the end, I think what makes a mother, more than anything else, is the sacrifice. The sacrifice of pain in bringing our children into the world…_

She remembers the nearly fatal intensity of giving birth first to little Fi then to Duncan, how the countless hours of sheer agony and screaming effort was made worth it the moment she heard her daughter's first cry and saw her son's solemn little scrunched-up face.

…_The sacrifices we make to protect them…_

Arlessa Isolde's frantic attempts to protect Connor from the notice of the Circle of Magi, to keep her son with her and safe, even going so far as to trust an apostate and blood mage with the boy's training so that he need not go to the tower; a reckless attitude that Kai hadn't understood until she had children of her own.

…_The sacrifice of our time and effort…_

Wynne sitting by the light of the campfire, carefully darning Alistair's socks even though he was a fully grown man who should be capable of it on his own, simply because it pleased her to take care of him as well as the rest of the party.

…_But above all else, our utter willingness to sacrifice ourselves for the sake of our children._

The images came flashing now, moving through Kai's thoughts almost in a blur. Eleanor Cousland, Tyverna of Highever, standing bow at the ready even as she urged her daughter to flee, determined to sell her life dearly just to buy her child a few more precious seconds to escape. Isolde, practically begging them to kill her to fuel Jowan's blood magic ritual and ensure Connor's survival no matter the cost. And Kai herself, brought to the ends of her endurance, razor sharp dagger held to her swollen abdomen, willing to kill herself to bring her child into the world.

_Yes, I think sacrifice describes what it means to be a mother best. Every day we make little sacrifices for the sakes of our children, and sometimes we're called upon to make the big ones as well. Yet we do it, all out of love. Because a true mother's love…_

Disgruntled noises started to come from the direction of the bed, indicating to Kai that Duncan would rouse soon, probably wanting to be fed or changed, or perhaps missing his sister. Quickly she penned a few more words to conclude her thoughts before replacing the cap on the ink well and leaving the journal pages open to dry. Cracking her stiff neck, she stretched sore and tired legs before standing and going to her waking child.

As she strode to the bed, the last few words she wrote stayed with her as she picked up and beamed at her now awake child who gurgled happily at the sight of her.

_Because a true mother's love knows absolutely no limits._

**The End**


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